#krevlornswath

[jbcrochetwizard]

Meet Lorne.  The friendly singing demon that originated from a world called Pylea.  He has a supernatural ability that he uses to help others by reading one’s aura (of future happenings) when they sing.  He can also raise his voice to a high frequency to a deafening degree.

This crochet amigurumi doll measures 13.5" tall (34.3 cm).

[thepunkmuppet]

make me choose:

↳ @thenewbuzwuzz requested -> lorne or tara maclay

[simongablelundmark]

my inktober Lorne now in living colour!

[greensword101]

Connor Adopted AU

Okay, this idea came to me a few weeks ago with a little idea for a one shot that has now developed into a large idea.

So, we all know what happens in "Sleep Tight" in Angel, Season 3, right? Wesley decides to not tell anyone about the prophesy involving Angel potentially committing filicide and tries to kidnap Connor for his safety. What happens as consequence is Connor getting kidnapped by Holtz, growing up in the worst hell dimension possible, and Connor returning as a teen and ultimately becoming (in my opinion) the most tragic character in the Buffyverse.

Instead of doing the good old fashioned Poor Communication Kills route here, Wesley decides that Angel has a right to know about the dreaded last line: The Father Will Kill The Son.

Angel...does not handle it well. He insists that Wesley could have mistranslated, is pulling a prank, that he was reading the wrong scroll. In the end, he is forced to accept that it is true. Connor is just a baby. He has only begun to taste life and there are so many things Angel had wanted to do, so many steps he was eagerly looking forward to.

All of it gone in an instant.

"Not quite," Wesley says with a determined light. Angel is despairing that his son will die by his hand. But Wesley has already decided that it will not happen. You don't get half a miracle.

The biggest threats to the baby's safety are Holtz, Wolfram and Hart, and all of the cults obsessed with 'The Miracle Child.' They have to take priority.

"And Connor?" Angel dreads the answer.

Wesley looks close to crying. "We can't keep him..."

No one is happy with this decision. No one. But no one is happy with Connor dying, either, and so they begin making plans to find a home for him. Wesley and Cordelia work on creating a new identity for the baby and finding a foster family. Fred buries her grief in packing up what the baby is going to take to his new forever home. Gunn and Angel channel their rage and own despair into hunting down every last threat to their son/nephew. Lorne is working with the Furies on getting the best protective spells available to hide Connor from enemies and hide him under the radar.

Holtz realizes that he can't move forward with his revenge plan as word of Angel's rampage spreads throughout the underworld. His followers slowly abandon him as their fear for their lives overpowers their lust for blood. Even Justine leaves him, seeing it as a lost cause and there's nothing to be gained from fighting a losing battle.

A family is found, Cordelia fills them in on only what is essential: the baby is in an unsafe environment, the baby's father wants him put into a safe and loving home. Lawrence and Colleen Reilly already have a daughter that is ten years old, and they're too old to try passing the kid off as their own. But all it takes is one picture of little Connor for them to fall in love instantly.

And so, the day the Fang Gang had been expecting and dreading arrives. Angel kisses his son on the forehead one last time before disappearing into the night, unable to bear watching his son be taken away.

"Sleep tight, son. Daddy will always love you..."

Cordelia makes the journey to the Reilly's home with Wesley acting as the decoy in case Wolfram and Hart try anything. She's holding back tears as she hands Connor off to his new family, wishing them well while Lorne is in the car finishing the last of the spellwork to protect Connor and the Reillys. Wesley gets his throat slit when one of Lilah's security team thinks he has the baby. She's furious at being made a fool, but still ensures that Wesley is taken to the hospital because s̶h̶e̶ ̶h̶a̶s̶ ̶a̶ ̶s̶o̶f̶t̶ ̶s̶p̶o̶t̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶ she wants to send a message to Angel.

Angel is the first to see Wesley in his hospital bed, unable to speak and unable to move from his spot. He awaits judgement several feet away.

Angel is quiet. "Did you really think I had it in me to kill Connor?"

Wesley looks at him hard, silently saying You could have become Angelus.

Angel nods. "Do you think I'm Angelus now?"

Wesley doesn't blink.

"Well, I'm not. You believe me, don't you?"

Slowly, Wesley nods.

"Good." Angel stands up and moves to the bed. His hand reaches for the pillow underneath Wesley's head...and gently fluffs it. Then, Angel readjusts his chair so it is right next to Wesley's bed.

"I'm staying here all night whether you want me to or not. That's the least I can do for you."

Wesley reaches out to Angel's hand and squeezes it tight. Gunn is waiting outside with Fred, who is sobbing into her coffee. Every last trace of Connor is out of the hotel, as if he were never there. They stay there the entire night, later joined by Cordelia and Lorne a few hours later.

While one family mourns the loss of one child, another family welcomes the introduction of another into their home. Connor Francis Reilly kept only several things from his old home: his name (including his middle name), a few teddy bears and a duck-printed blanket. Thanks to the efforts of the Furies and Lorne, no supernatural forces come near him. He grows up understanding that he was adopted, that Lawrence and Colleen are not his biological parents...and not thinking any less of them.

Of course, he wants to find his bio family. But only out of curiosity. His mom and dad (his parents) only told him that his mother (or who they think is his mom) worked hard to find a good home for him. He doesn't feel abandoned. He doesn't have any traumatic experiences (other than the one time he got lost in the store when he was five). Connor grows up relatively normal.

He watches Charmed with his big sister when he's a toddler (and connecting with the fourth sister, Paige, cause she was adopted too and loved her parents too), goes camping with his friends, is drawn to a lot of fantasy books like the Anna Rice novels. Mainly the ones that have vampires, for some reason. But never Stephanie Meyers, though. He gives up before he gets halfway through the first chapter in that series. That Bella girl is such an ungrateful brat!

His family goes out camping a lot, which was something Connor loved! He could almost imagine living off in the wild like Tarzan or Robinson Crusoe. Larence laughed at this and said. "You might just become the local menace in the woods."

He also loves to dance. Connor doesn't realize that he is just as artistic as his father and mother (well, Darla could sing well, and Angelus saw murder as an art form, but that's another story). It's mainly because he used to do boxing until he was 8 and punched a bag so hard that sand spilled out.

So, his dad suggested dancing instead. He could be like Billy Elliot and the chances of him punching someone's head clean off their shoulders would drastically decrease. Plus, dancing was fun! He didn't have to wear a tutu (thank God, his sister would never have let him live it down), and his instructors were amazed at how effortlessly he moved on the stage.

That's also how he met his future boyfriend (he's bi, his parents accepted that when he came out), Marcus. Marcus is on the football team and loves watching his boyfriend dance. He can't get over how graceful he is, it's almost inhuman.

Connor Reilly has an amazing life, and he can't think of how it could get any better than that.

About two weeks after he thinks this, the protection spells that were cast to protect him from the supernatural realm and hide him from enemies finally breaks. Connor gets hit by a car and crashes into the garage of his family's home without a scratch on him. His parents, now well into their fifties, get an anonymous tip that they might find answers with a certain investigations company.

They trekked to L.A. and get accosted by a vampire cult. Connor is too stunned to do anything as they pull him away from his parents, screaming their heads off in terror as their only son is ripped away.

Vampires are real. He thinks over and over again as he's dragged underground into what he suspects is connected to the sewers. Vampires are real and I'm going to die.

He's stripped naked save for a loincloth. The man (or vampire) that he suspects in their leader looks euphoric as he looks Connor over in his cell.

"At long last, the Miracle Child is among us once more."

Connor doesn't understand how he could be a miracle. Well, other than how it was a miracle that he wasn't killed by that car. And the other stuff in his life that he is conveniently ignoring for the sake of his own sanity.

"You shall be freed from this human prison and be worshipped among your kind."

Connor doesn't like the way the creep looks close to kissing him just then. He's a minor and already has a boyfriend, thank you very much!

Too soon, he's dragged out and tied to an alter where the Head Creep suddenly changes his face and bares his sharp teeth. Connor tries fighting, but the bindings are too strong and he's frozen with fear.

And then the Head Creep is dust. Literal dust. One of the other creeps is behind him wearing that same Scary Face, but for some reason, Connor isn't afraid of that one. The sword in his (savior?)'s hand shines in the torchlight and slash at the bindings. Before Connor can react, he's swaddled in the robe the Scary-But-Not-Scary Guy was wearing and witnesses all of the other vampires being hacked and staked until there's no one left but him and the other guy.

Then, the face goes back to normal and Connor finds it funny that the guy looks like he's brooding. Well, he would if he weren't half naked and still possibly awaiting death by fanage. Suddenly, a bundle is tossed his way and Connor realizes that it's his own clothes. His savior has the decency to look away while Connor changes, which pushes him further up the Guess You're Not Really A Bad Guy bar in Connor's book.

"Are you hurt?" His savior asks.

"No." Connor says honestly. Then, he realizes that there's a scratch on his cheek (probably from when the sword was cutting off the rope).

For some reason, this seems to get his savior upset. "Oh God, Connor, I am so sorry, I wasn't looking! I wasn't trying to hurt you and" -

Connor cuts him off before he continues to ramble. "How did you know my name?!"

Then, he sees the guy's face. It looks so much like his own, except...broodier and his hair is short. Connor lost his hair band keeping his man bun in check and he has to brush away the bangs going over his eyes.

Connor then realizes that he's meeting his biological father for the first time ever.

[enigmatist17]

My Sanctuary (Part 1)

This starts after this series :)

Part 2 3 4 5

---

Angel had returned from Buffy's funeral looking absolutely shattered. No one could think of words as he climbed the stairs of the Hyperion to his room, everyone sharing a look before Wesley trailed up after him, the door to Angel's room unlocked.

"Wes, please leave me alone." Wesley shakes his head as he enters and closes the door with a soft click.

"No, I don't think that's a good idea right now." The former Watcher can feel those intense eyes follow him across the room, pulling out some blood to warm for the other from his fridge. "I can also see you've not eaten since you heard about it." The vampire says nothing as Wesley goes through the motions, wondering when it has become nigh second nature to warm blood to feed a vampire who insists on torturing himself with almost every action he takes.

The firm arms that wrap around his waist are his answer, Angel tucking his chin in the crook of Wes's neck as he watches.

"Will you stay tonight?"

"Of course." Angel releases him when Wesley finishes. He's a lot hungrier than he'd let on as he feeds, and Wesley goes to sit on the couch, waiting patiently for the other to join him when he's finished. Angel sits beside him when he's done, the vampire sighing as he slumps against the Brit. "Better?"

"A little." They sit in silence for a while, the human knowing the moment Angel stops whatever thoughts are racing in his head when he rests his head against the other. "I had a talk with Spike."

"Oh?" That was a bit of a surprise, but Wes waits for the other to continue, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of Angel's head.

"I don't know what's going to happen with him, but," Angel hesitated, avoiding those inquisitive eyes. "He may show up here, and I need you to promise me something."

"Anything."

"When he shows up, if I'm not there, get me immediately." Wesley frowned, not sure if he really should show mercy to the man who had last shown up and tortured Angel for over a day. "He won't hurt you, I promise you that."

"Angel..." He fumbled for the right words, glancing at his hands with a frown. "He's dangerous...isn't he?"

"Yes, but he's changed Wes, in a way I never thought possible." The two share a look before Angel leans forward, capturing Wesley's lips in a sweet kiss. "Promise me?"

"You have my word."

---

"Can I rest now?"

It's such a heartbreaking question given how exhausted he was, and the older vampire leans closer with a familiar crunching noise. It's almost silent at first, but a deep purring begins to fill the air, rumbling from deep inside Angel's chest. Spike slowly uncovers his head, blue eyes turning pitch-black as he begins to sway his head in time with the noise. Angel's eyes turn the same black as his childe watches expectantly.

"Let's go and rest now." Angel moves away, the younger making a soft keen when the purring grows muted, shaking hands reaching out to stop him from leaving. Angel grasps both hands with a gentle hum and squeeze, pulling Spike up and onto his unsteady feet with a soft clicking noise. Wesley slowly moves well out of their way as the younger vampire trails after his purring grandsire, those black eyes tracking his movement, but otherwise, the human is disregarded as he follows the sound of comfort. Angel brings him to a room he'd set up a few weeks ago for this very purpose, an abandoned suite that had originally been put low on the refurbishment list until he'd spoken with Spike all that time ago.

Angel had spent a solid week ripping out old carpeting and peeling wallpaper, replacing the flooring with wood, and painting the walls shades of black, red, and purple. The broken bed and old furniture were tossed out and replaced with some of the better sets he'd slowly been acquiring with the hotel repairs, save for some rugs he'd "acquired" from a shopkeeper who owed him. Clothes and sheets were stowed for later use, along with a mini-fridge and a dozen packs of the smokes Spike always enjoyed. 

Spike didn't need much encouragement to collapse onto the bed. He hissed a little when Angel pulled off the remains of his shirt, but otherwise, he was happy to be on something soft. 

"Oh, Spike..." The claw marks that marred his upper chest were deep and relatively fresh; the vampire moved to the bathroom to grab the paramedic-grade first aid kit he always had on hand. The sting from the antiseptic doesn't seem to register with Spike, those black eyes watching his grandsire tend to his wounds without a sound, each reassuring purr from Angel relaxing the other just that little bit more until his eyes finally close. After placing a few bandages to cover the open wound, Angel looked at the sleeping man with a soft expression, before shaking his head and raising one of his wrists to his mouth, biting down enough to draw blood. Spike tenses when he smells the blood in the air, the older moving so the younger man can latch onto him without the need to even open his eyes, cradling Spike's head with a soft tutt.

"Drink, as much as you need." The coo is mostly ignored as the smaller man feeds, Angel having picked up that the other had been running on fumes for as long as he'd had his soul from the moment he'd laid eyes on him.

---

"You look like shit." 

"Oh, thanks." The human smirked in amusement as he watched Angel stumble down the stairs, heading for his special fridge stocked with human blood. It had been a while since Wesley had told the rest of Angel Investigations the small amount of information he and Angel had discussed, and despite the long hours, everyone decided camping out in the Hyperion was a good idea.

Just in case.

"So, how is our little psychopath?" Cordelia hummed from her chair, watching as Angel just bit into the first bag he could touch, draining it almost immediately. Angel went through another bag before he decided to answer, the paler-than-normal man wavering faintly in place as he raised an eyebrow as high as his demonic form allowed.

"Our? He's resting and will most likely be for the day. Night? I don't know what time it is." The vampire frowned to himself as Fred came up to his side, having warmed one of his massive mugs to the brim with warm blood when he wasn't paying attention. "Oh, thank you."

"You look likely to keel over any second now." The Texan smiled, Angel patting the top of her head before going after his blood with a small groan.

"So, he got himself a soul huh? I thought you had to be cursed or somethin'?" Gunn tilted his head slightly as Angel shook his head. "Why him, of all people?"

"I don't think it really matters, Spike earned it." Wesley looked up from his book, his tone softer than anyone else was expecting. "He will tell you in time, if he so desires."

"Long as he ain't killin' anyone, I don't really care." The other shrugged, Angel no longer wavering as he finished his drink with a small cough. "Better?"

"Much, I wasn't expecting him to nearly drain me dry." 

"He fed off you?" Fred's eyes were wide as she looked up at Angel, the man able to see millions of questions behind that gaze.

"Sure he did Freddikins." Lorne's voice carried as it always did as he swept into the hotel, lowering his sunglasses with a low whistle. "You've looked better hun."

"So I keep getting told." Angel's lips twitched in a smile as Lorne leaned against the old bellhop station, those knowing eyes giving him another once-over. 

"How's the little sugarcake doing?" Now, all eyes were on the uncomfortable-looking vampire, and Wesley appeared to his side with a comforting hand on his back.

"Exactly how I expected..." Angel leaned into Wesley's touch, and everyone waited in silence. "What I say doesn't leave here, okay?"

"Works for us," Cordelia spoke for the group, patient as always as Angel struggled on where to begin.

"He's not really aware of what's going on; the only reason he made it here was because I renewed our sire bond when I was in Sunnydale," He began, flickers of confusion crossing most of the group's faces save Wesley and Lorne. "When I got my soul, a lot of that initial night is lost to me, save Darla chasing me away. All I really remember was the screaming, the faces of everyone I'd ever killed or tortured just screaming at me nonstop until I would manage to sleep."

You could hear a pin drop in the silence that filled the hotel, Angel's voice wavering as he recalled a time he wished to forget, but needed to explain so they could understand how important it was to have Spike with them.

"It's going to be the guilt that gets him next, every terrible thing he's ever done is going to play like a movie that will never end, taunting him and torturing him because...because we deserved it." Angel pulls away from Wesley to walk a few steps back toward the fridge, running his hands through his hair with a quiet mumble. "He's already asked if I'll kill him." His voice chokes at the confession, everyone sharing the same pained looks. "Which is exactly why I told him to come find me."

"Because you're going to keep him safe from himself." Gunn spoke up, brows furrowing. "You wanted that too, huh?"

"No, at the beginning, I'd try to stake myself, walk in the sunlight, light myself on fire, and something just kept stopping me at the time; I thought it was just me being a coward. It just felt like I was drowning every waking moment, the voices and the memories trying their damndest never to let me forget...I wanted peace so badly." 

"Oh Angel..." Fred was hugging his side before Angel even realized she'd moved, his arms raised awkwardly before he settles them around her. "That sounds so awful."

"Yea, I guess it was." He never could be too upset when Fred did her best to cheer him up, and he offered a small smile.

"How long do you think he'll be all crazy town?" Cordelia blinked when everyone stared at her. "What?"

"It depends on him in the end." Angel shrugged, moving with Fred to rejoin everyone arm in arm. "It took me a long time, although with Spike, he always has a tendency to surprise you where you'd least expect."

"I guess we'll have to wait and see, doll. Just know we're all here to help." Lorne smiled, able to see Angel's shoulder sag in slight relief.

"Thanks guys."

[blueskimmer]

🎶Nearly done with Season 4 and I literally

only care about Lorne🎶

Highly recommend this good good boy to help with your depression 👍

Somebody talk to me about Lorne 👀 he’s litterally perfect 👌👌👌 I think of nothing else

[pmlrosenberg]

my favourite green singing demon 🫶💚

[authorofthelabyrinth]

Nothing in the BTVS/ATS comics will ever confuse me more than the fact that Andrew pulls, and specifically pulls Lorne.

[blackcatpersona]

Long story short, I'm posting this because I needed to read it. I didn't like that Lorne was never given a proper love interest; he deserved one more than anyone else in my humble opinion. So, I wrote one myself. It'll be a long one, and part of a series, because I love me some character development. :)

Anywho, here it is. Let me know what you think. <3

.................................................................

Chapter 1: Of Women and Words

“Look, I’m telling you... I have no idea who she is, or how she got here. She’s just...here!” the demon whispered and gestured madly at the floor near his feet.

Angel looked around Caritas, puzzled. “Lorne, half-naked women don’t magically appear on stages overnight. She got here somehow. Do we have any information to go on?”

The woman was an adult, but on the young side. Angel put her in her mid-twenties. Dressed in a white, pleated, cotton robe that was barely opaque, her olive-skinned legs were exposed past the knee. The dress was held together at the waist by a thick gold and black striped belt that appeared to be solid metal. No shoes, hair untied and puddled in a thick, dark auburn crown around her head, laying on her right side, she looked as though she had fallen asleep. The only thing that remained to her was a gold armband that resembled a snake, writhing its way up her arm.

“You know...’, remarked Lorne sarcastically, “I haven’t quite been able to keep her quiet. Any ideas?”

Angel raised his hands to his chest in a ‘I surrender’ sort of gesture, and said, “Alright, I get it. I get it. Well...we should probably find somewhere to...put her...until she wakes up.”

Lorne nodded silently; his brow creased with concern.

“You get the arms, I’ll get the feet, and we carry her to your place?”

The demon barely registered Angel’s words as he continued to stare at the woman before them. He couldn’t explain it, but he was immediately drawn to her, felt protective of her, as if he felt her distress already.

Impossible. He thought to himself. She’s unconscious. He moved toward her, bending at the knees to scoop her up into his arms, bridal-style.

“No. I’ll get her. You can get the doors along the way.”

….....................................................................................................................................................................

“You sure she wasn’t just really, really, drunk last night? Maybe she was still in the bathroom when you locked up...”

Lorne, exasperated at having spent the last hour arguing hypotheticals with the WRH team in his bedroom, snapped back at Cordelia.

“No, she wasn’t in the bathroom. I’ve said this a dozen times already. She wasn’t in the bathroom, she wasn’t in the stage wings, or in the green room backstage, she wasn’t in a storage room, or behind the bar... She was NOT in the bar when I locked up. No alarms, no security camera footage, no broken glass, no unlocked doors. I... I don’t know how she got here!” He turned his attention back to the bed.

“Okay, okay.”, Angel stepped into the conversation. “We’ve established that her appearance is most definitely a mystery. Great. Now, onto more practical matters. We should find a way to wake her up before someone comes looking for her. Ideas?”

“I hate be the bearer of bad news, but I don’t really know that one can do that, Angel.” Wesley commented. “I think she just has to...come around on her own.”

The WRH team was circled around the king-sized bed in Lorne’s apartment, staring awkwardly at the unconscious female asleep in the demon’s bed. Angel, Wesley, and Cordelia stood at the foot of the bed while Lorne sat perched on the side of the mattress, facing the woman. His hand rested flat on the duvet, as close to her hand as he dared to get.

She looks so helpless. He sighed to himself.

“Well, there’s no point in all of you standing around waiting for the magic to happen. It’s my apartment, I’ll stay and keep watch. The bar doesn’t open for a few hours anyway. If she isn’t up before I have to leave, I’ll text one of you to come takeover.”

Cordelia raised her hand to ask a question.

“Um, not to be rude, but is the green, red-eyed, demon really the best choice for first contact ambassador? I mean, no offence, Lorne...but you might scare the shit out her.”

“There’s a really good chance that she’s going to be scared. You know, waking up in a strange place, having anyone watching over you.” Wesley added. “Besides, how do we know that something traumatic didn’t happen to get her here in the first place? Maybe Lorne IS the best bet to stay with her, given he might be able to read something.”

Angel nodded. “Lorne stays. Let’s move out.”

The team dispersed quickly, happy to be free of the awkward tension in the room. Lorne never noticed. A door closed softly somewhere in the distance. His red eyes never left his charge’s face.

“Where did you come from, Princess?” He whispered to her as he took her hand in his, as gently as possible. “Hmm...? What’s your name?” He chuckled to himself, the first sign of a smile making its way across his lips as he told himself, “It’s terribly un-gentlemanly to have a lady in your bed and not even know her name.”

He allowed himself a moment to truly take in her form, her features. She had a light tan to her skin, her flesh soft. Slender fingers, but he could feel strong muscles in her hand. Her limbs appeared toned; feminine, but not fragile. She seemed to be taller than most of the females he knew, but he couldn’t really guess with her still laying down. As his eyes glided upward, he noticed light bruising on her forearms. Were those finger imprints? Lorne rubbed his free thumb lightly across the marks, wanting, needing, to know more, feeling a growing concern within his soul to know how this woman came to be in his bar.

Hours came and went. He never did text the others to relieve his vigil. He asked his bartender to watch over Caritas tonight, and to cancel any readings he had scheduled.

He was in this for the long-haul.

….....................................................................................................................................................................

Lorne sat uncomfortably in a low back chair that he had pulled close to the edge of the bed hours ago. He had cursed the design choice as it forced him to hunch forward to continue holding the young woman’s hand. His back and legs ached, but still he sat guarding the woman. He snored softly, having been dozing in and out of sleep for the past few hours, afraid to completely give in to slumber, lest he miss something. A thought caught his attention.

Fatigue...pain...sore...dark...confusion...fear...

Lorne sat upright the moment he realized what was happening. She was stirring.

This is it.

The woman turned her head slowly, eyes fluttering, and mumbled something Lorne couldn’t quite catch. It sounded like it could have been a question.

“Come on, Princess. Wakey-wakey...” He rubbed his thumbs across her hand in light encouragement.

“...Ee-may?”

“Ee-what now, Strudel?”

Two sparkling, dark green eyes, opened, slowly, locking eyes with the demon.

“Well good morning, sleepy head.” Lorne smiled warmly at the woman.

She froze, staring at him. Her breathing quickened, becoming shallow. Lorne sensed what was coming.

Fearfearfearfearfearfearscaredfearpainfearfearfearconfusedfearfear....

“No no no no...” He let go of her hand and raised his palms outward in a show of trust. “Look, look! Not gonna hurt you, see? You're safe...you’re safe.”

It didn’t help. She screamed and tried to roll to the other side of the bed to put distance between herself and the demon.

“O-na! O-na, lee-ay!” She yelled, crying, launching herself over the far side of the mattress. She tried to stand and run, but fell beside the bed immediately. An exclamation rang through the air. Lorne knew that word when he heard it. Some cuss words just don’t need translating.

Lorne rose and ran to her side, quickly kneeling to her height to try and offer any assistance he could. The woman backed herself into the corner. Scared, she held her ankle.

“Oh, Princess...you’re injured, aren’t you?” He crept toward her, slowly, and reached a hand out to place it over hers on her ankle. With the other, he gestured to himself. “Lorne. Lorne. My name is Lorne.”

Fearfearfearfearfearfearfearfear...

He felt it. He tried his best to speak quietly and softly, to be reassuring, and calming.

“It’s ok, Honey. I know you’re scared. Probably have never seen a green man with horns before, so hey, I’m not taking this personally.” He rubbed her hand warmly. “You’re safe, now. Ok? No one will hurt you here. I promise.”

...fear...............fear.................calming.....................uncertainty............................trust?

“It’s OK. It’s OK.” He repeated.

She was silent for a moment before whispering. “Lour-ne?”

Her voice was low and melodious, and Lorne found himself smitten immediately. He smiled widely.

“That’s right, Sunshine. My name is Lorne.”

The woman eyed the demon up and down, taking in his features, his clothes. It was obvious to Lorne that she had never met a member of his clan before. She studied him for a full minute before moving to pick herself off the ground. She faltered as she stood, putting her weight on her bad ankle. Lorne had been matching her ascent, and managed to catch her as she fell forward into his arms.

“Woah! Easy there, Pancake. Don’t want you flattened out again.” He offered a friendly chuckle as he held her steady. He looked down at her dark hair, now falling just past her shoulders in loose waves. Her head barely reached his chin as she used the man’s arms to upright herself. She stood delicately, placing her weight on her good foot, and glanced shyly up at Lorne.

“Wah-tay.” She mumbled humbly.

“I suppose you’re welcome.” He noticed the fleeting aroma of flowers as he lowered his head to speak to her. “Let’s get you off that foot, huh? Here, let me help.”

Lorne guided the woman slowly backward toward the edge of the bed and held her hand in his as she found her own way down to sit on the duvet. Using her palms, she pressed the cotton shift dress smoothly down her thighs and adjusted the belt at her waist. She saw the serpent armband still on her arm, touched it briefly, closed her eyes, and sighed quietly.

Reliefreliefreliefreliefreliefreliefreliefreliefreliefreliefreliefreliefreliefreliefrelief...confusion...confusion...

She looked at Lorne again. The fear and uncertainty had returned, but it had lessened. Lorne felt it, but it was slipping away from him.

I guess that’s a plus. He thought to himself. She’s not as stressed as she was.

Lorne rose to grab the same chair he had been sitting in during his vigil, and pulled it around the bed to face the woman on the other side. He kept it a comfortable distance away from the woman, not wanting to make her uneasy, but wanting to make it clear that he needed her attention. He sat in the chair with his palms on his legs.

“Alright, Buttercup. We need to figure this out, and, sadly, I only speak English and Pylean, so... let’s try this again.” Lorne pointed to himself. “Lorne.” He said.”

The young woman spoke quietly. “Lour-ne.”

“That’s right! Now, what is your name?” He pointed at his guest.

Uncertainty.............confusion............helpful............hopeful........

She raised her hand to her chest, placing her palm over her heart. “...Saf-Fi-Ya.”

Lorne smiled without delay, and raised his hands above his head in a dramatic Hallelujah. “Lord Sinatra, be praised!”

Saffiya returned the smile, and coyly rose her hand to cover her mouth. Lorne found it adorable. Encouraged by the positive interaction, he continued on, pointing to the chair beneath him.

“Chair. Chair. Chair.”

“Or-ette.” Saffiya answered with a quizzical look, “Or-ette.”

“Or-ette.” Lorne echoed. “OK. Let’s try another one.” He pointed a finger at the lamp on the nightstand. “Lamp. Lamp. Laaaammmp.”

The woman shook her head slowly.

Confusion...no... unknown...

“Alright. Maybe you don't have lamps where you’re from. That’s OK. We’ll keep it simple” He looked around room for inspiration. Someone had left a bottle of water on the same nightstand, and he reached to collect it. As he unscrewed the lid and poured a small amount into his cupped hand, he spoke. “Water. Water...” He splashed the liquid with a finger and made a point to touch it to his mouth, demonstrating it was safe. “Water.”

Saffiya nodded quickly, saying, “Raw-wen.”

Impatient...impatient...restraint...flustered...impatient...

“This is taking a while, isn’t it, Princess?” The demon sighed forcefully. “I agree.”

Saffiya tried to rise once more, letting a hand reach out toward Lorne before having to sit back down quickly. Obviously bothered, she motioned to Lorne for him to come closer to her. “O-na. O-na.”

He stood and took a few paces toward Saffiya.

“Moy. Moy, O-na.”

Another few paces...

She gestured for him to lower himself to her level, and he knelt, uncertain what was to happen next.

“Om-ee ah-na way tah-low. Hor-a ten.” The woman whispered to Lorne as her eyes pleaded with him. “Ah-whet?”

Sure, why not? Lorne nodded.

Saffiya lowered her gaze to Lorne’s chest, and touched the fabric of his shirt. She recoiled at the sensation.

“I know, polyester. I'm sorry. I didn’t care for it either, but your shopping options are limited when you can’t go far in public on your own.”

She ignored his words and brushed the shirt collar out of the way, allowing her fingers to follow the buttons down, eventually figuring out how to open the shirt farther. She managed to make it down to the bottom of Lorne’s ribs.

“You know, I don’t know how it is wherever you came from, but here, it’s customary to buy someone a drink first.” He joked with a grin.

Two warm palms pressed flat against the demon’s green chest, and the visitor began to mumble quickly and quietly. Lorne watched intently, trying to find any meaning in her actions.

Just as quickly as she had begun murmuring, Saffiya stopped, but kept her hands on the demon’s bare skin.

Confusedconfusedconfusedconfusedangryconfused...angry...angry...frustrated...impatient...

“Gah-way Ja?” She looked up at Lorne, her face red with agitation. Lorne opened his lips to speak...

At that moment, the bedroom door creaked open, and a familiar, pale face poked through the space.

“How’s the patient?” It was Angel, walking into the room. He stopped in his tracks when he took in the scene before him. The woman was awake and feeling up Lorne’s bare chest as he knelt in front of her.

“Uh...You guys should lock the door... next time.”

Lorne stood quickly, defensively.

“This is NOT what it looks like, Angel Bear. I promise! She just... She’s trying to... Well, I don’t know what she’s trying to do, but she seems sure about it...”

“What did we miss? Is she awake?”

It was Wesley this time, following behind Angel. He, too, stopped at the sight of a bare-chested Lorne.

“Um... Should we... Leave?” He gestured to the door.

“In-a, wah no Al-whet?” Saffiya looked around the room at the faces that were studying her, finally coming to rest on Lorne. “Ah-sto-al ee-ahn...”

Lorne looked at his charge, not having understood a word, but wanting to be as reassuring as possible. He nodded.

Saffiya pointed to Lorne’s chest, then to Angel, and finally pointed to one hand with the other. Lorne was beginning to put the charades together.

“Uh...Ange... I think Saffiya wants a minute with you.”

“Saffiya?”

“Yeah, I think that’s her name. That’s about as far as we’ve gotten.”

“So... What? She wants to grope me, too?”

“Look, she seems to know what she’s doing, which is 10 steps ahead of all of us. It’s worth a shot.”

Angel studied Lorne for a moment before turning his eyes to Saffiya. She seemed frightened, small, confused. Angel made a motion to her, as if to ask if she could come to him. The demon interjected. “Actually, she seems to be injured. You’ll have to come over here...” He took a step back and made room for Angel to come forward. The vampire stood hovering over Saffiya with an expression of impatience upon his face. He raised his arms slightly from his waist, and uttered one word: “OK.”

Saffiya glanced at Lorne and gestured to her neck.

“Oh! Ah, you should do the buttons... And kneel. Makes it easier for her”

With the shirt finally opened and the vampire on his knees, Saffiya moved to place her hands on Angel’s chest. She began to speak the same words she spoke when she touched Lorne earlier, but again, quickly stopped.

“Bash-tet ar-Ra! Way-a-meen Oh-teph-ay?!” She seemed angry now. Frustrated at a situation no one really understood.

“What’s wrong, Lorne?”

The demon shrugged, defeated. “I don’t know. I... I don’t know.”

The room was deathly silent for a brief moment, punctuated only by the sighs of those present. Saffiya glanced around at the statuesque men before finally exclaiming, “RA, HE-AM O-TEB!”

Before anyone could stop her, Saffiya had pushed herself from the bed and began to make her way toward Wesley. He barely had time to register the movement around him before he felt the woman crash into him, head first, having stumbled on her poor foot. The impact sent the pair diving to the floor; Wesley on his back, the woman practically straddling him. With one swift motion, she sat upright on his abdomen and stretched her hands out toward the Watcher’s chest. Wesley yelled.

“Somebody get her off of me! She’s trying to kill me!” Wesley was panicked as the strange female began to pull at his shirt, ripping the cloth in a frantic effort to reach her hands to his skin. Buttons flew from Wesley’s shirt as Angel and Lorne rushed to help free him of his assailant. Angel grabbed at Saffiya’s waist while Lorne tried to pry her hands away from the Watcher’s flesh. Only a few seconds after contact was made, Saffiya’s face lit up in a fantastic smile, and she began to loudly recite the same words she had started to chant earlier. This time, she continued.

“I can’t...get her off!” Angel grunted.

“Her hands won’t budge!” Lorne exclaimed, perplexed.

Without warning, Saffiya threw her head back and opened her eyes wide, revealing a bright, green light that seemed to shine from within. Lorne and Angel both leapt back, not knowing what was happening. Even Wesley couldn’t help but stare in disbelief. The room was filled with a sharp, tangible, vibration.

After what seemed like an eternity, the glow in the woman’s eyes dimmed, she looked back down at the Watcher, and released her palms from his chest. She wavered for a moment, before lurching backward. Lorne saw the sudden movement and grabbed Saffiya before she collapsed to the floor.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this, Princess.”

 As he pulled her off of Wesley’s torso, Angel reached to grab the Watcher’s hands and help him to his feet. He brushed himself off and tried to straighten out what was left of his shirt, embarrassed at the uncharacteristic state he was in.

Lorne placed Saffiya gently back on the bed. Thankfully, she seemed alive and well, although her breathing was rapid and shallow. Angel and Wesley stood at the foot of the bed, closer than last time, and watched as Lorne leaned over the woman and took her hand in his own once more. Saffiya slowly turned her head to face the demon. She smiled, bright and genuine, and spoke.

“...Thank you.”

[iateabunchofsmartiesandnowimdumb]

I love lorne so much

[green-mug-tomato-juice]

here's every picture ever. no other pictures exist

[jbcrochetwizard]

Lorne from the show Angel the series. He really is the life of the party!

[thepunkmuppet]

reasons why lorne is queer coded and why I am confused no one talks about the gay icon that he is

he is a stereotypical effeminate gay man down to the voice (i hate that you know the one, but you know the one). he likes glitz and glam and showbiz and female celebrities and parties and pop culture and mimosas and nice clothes and just behaves the way gay men are stereotypically shown/seen to behave (especially in early 2000s media) so um yeah that’s straight up the definition of queer coding but THERES MORE SO IM CONTINUING

his innate passion for music is used as a clear allegory for being different, and by extension sexuality and gender. he was shunned for his unique interest in music by his family and culture, and hated for being different by everyone in pylea despite it being something he couldn’t seem to control. when he comes to earth, he is able to be himself and pursue his passions, and sees pylea and his family environment as literal hell. the culture in pylea is based around conformity and obedience and is run by a shady religious group, so him breaking free from that environment is super relatable for queer people who grew up in religious / anti-lgbt homes

caritas is most definitely a metaphor for a queer safe space / gay bar. there is no violence allowed, humans and demons exist there in peace with each other, and he created it personally from the ground up to provide a space for others like him who are different and might not want to go / be able to go to “normal” or human bars. oh and also there’s a club shooting scene where, despite most of the demons there being peaceful, the shooters are a, afraid of them and b, in this specific case, enjoy hunting and terrorising them for sport because they hate them so much. so. yeah that TOTALLY doesn’t reflect real life queer history and current events not at ALL

the women in the deathwok clan look like bearded men. lorne makes a few comments about cordelia’s beauty and availability as well as some pylean women from the past, but we know that the concept of gender and womanhood is different in pylea. so even if he is attracted to women, his experience of gender and gendered attraction is undeniably queer by human standards regardless

he clearly has a casual thing for angel. like he knows that man is gorgeous but he also knows that angel is in love with like fifteen different people throughout the series and he is just not about that drama

he uses affectionate pet names for everyone, especially angel, ALL THE TIME like honey, baby, muffin, sweetcheeks, angel-cakes etc

he fulfils the gay best friend stereotype very often in the role he plays in episodes, often furthering others’ arcs and the plots of episodes while providing sassy quirky advice and having no personal character growth. bad trope that I do not like but it’s true

he is a kind sweet mum friend and a sassy gay wine aunt at the same time and I love that for him

EDIT I realised this on rewatch recently, I had forgotten there is a scene where just straight up shamelessly asks angel out on a date to a concert. so.

basically I have a lot of feelings about him and I simultaneously relate to him and want him to be my mum and he is a very very special boy who deserves all the love in the world!!! so!!! lorne says happy pride month!!!!

edit: everyone in the tags and comments saying it is obvious you are completely true and correct!! which is why idk why no one talks about him!!!!! I just wanted to put my thoughts into words so here it is

[simongablelundmark]

as penance for not thinking to draw Angel yesterday, today I'm drawing the best demon from Angel

[thequeenofsastiel]

I just listed the characters that were all in the title sequence at one point or another.

[lindseymcdonaldseyelashes]

Angel 2x17 - "Dead End"